


Ackerman

by ackerman_trash



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AU, Alternate Ending, Alternate Timelines, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blood and Violence, Commander Hange Zoë, F/M, Family, Gangs, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Levi Needs a Hug (Shingeki no Kyojin), M/M, Manipulation, Marley Arc (Shingeki no Kyojin), Original Character(s), Recreational Drug Use, Sad Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Scout Regiment, Second Generation, Slow Burn, Soft Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Spy - Freeform, Tea, Tea Shop Owner Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Undercover, levi as a father
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:01:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28896282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ackerman_trash/pseuds/ackerman_trash
Summary: Ackerman follows an alternate timeline in which Captain Levi has a daughter, Antonia. Past Eren finds her journal and gives it to past Levi to read (set six weeks after they retake Wall Maria). The journal chronicles how she is sent to Marley as an undercover agent, and the eventual war between Paradis and Marley that ensues. Both Levi and Antonia have to deal with their relationships to their family, and it follows the theory that history always repeats itself when the emotion around an event is strong enough. Even though Erwin died during the battle for Wall Maria, Antonia is falling in love and having her own story with her own version of Erwin. It explores that if a love is strong enough, then it expands past multiple generations. Antonia deals with her own losses, and reflects on her relationship with her father while generally being a bad-ass bitch. Levi is working through his grief after losing Erwin, and coming to terms with the fact that he will be a father, and his daughter is involved in war as well.
Relationships: Armin Arlert/Eren Yeager, Levi Ackerman/Hange Zoë, Levi/Erwin Smith, Sasha Blouse/Niccolo
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> For the purposes of this story, I'm ignoring ANYTHING that happens after the end of Season 3 (if you spoil season 4 for me I will skin you alive.) The Curse of Ymir is also nonexistent. I'm also going to take some liberties with Eren's titan abilities.
> 
> Please note some explicit violent and sexual content.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren Jeager finds an old journal titled, Ackerman

It was on an entirely uneventful morning that Eren Jaeger knocked on the door of his Captain’s office.

It was Armin who had convinced him to do it. When he had found a journal with _Ackerman_ embroidered on the cover, his first thought was to ask Mikasa. But after investigating the first page, it became clear that whoever this belonged to was not his adoptive sister, as it had a forward. A water stained, hand written note, signed _E. J. Smith._ Mikasa herself confirmed that the Commander had not given her a journal… Why would he? Eren’s next natural reaction was to read the damn thing, but Armin had taken it out of his hands before the thought could even cross his friend’s mind. He knew Eren too well. And after the Commander’s recent death… well Armin thought the next person they should hand it to was Levi. 

“Levi?” Eren had asked, the thought of approaching the Captain still sending a shiver down his spine. 

“He’s the only other person we know of with the name Ackerman. And he had the closest relationship to Erwin.”

“But he just found out that Ackerman is his name?” Mikasa interjected. 

“True, but if it doesn’t belong to you, then I can’t think of anyone else who would be a better candidate.”

Which then brought them to their Captain’s door, which had remained closed since their mission to retake Wall Maria. They had been successful, of course, and he came out when they needed him… but he was missing in action every other moment of the day; holed up. 

And he looked ready to murder Eren when he opened the door. 

“What?” 

“Uh…” Eren stammered, “Is this yours?”

Levi took the journal in his hands, turning it over. “No? Why would you think it’s mine? It says Ackerman doesn’t it, shouldn’t it belong to Mikasa?”

“It doesn't” She affirmed, “And there’s a letter from Erwin at the beginning.” 

Levi’s eyes shot up, swallowing something. _Probably any emotions he has,_ Eren thought. He flipped through the pages, eyes furrowed. “This isn’t my handwriting, and it can’t be something Erwin left- it’s been written in…” He stared at the little book for a moment, lost in thought in a way that Eren had never seen before. Levi was known for making quick decisions under pressure. “I’ll examine it,” he finally declared, hand on the doorway. “You three are dismissed.” 

Eren couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed- he had wanted to know what was written in this mystery diary. But Armin and Mikasa were both already leading him back through the hallway as Levi closed his door with a startling finality. 

On the other end of that thick mahogany stood their Captain, dumbfounded at the find that his soldier had brought him. It definitely wasn’t his, but there was a familiarity to it that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Stranger yet is the note that was seemingly from Erwin, but didn’t match his handwriting at all. Furthermore, whoever this note was addressed was smudged out by what looked like a tea stain. 

In any other situation he would have handed the journal in to his Commander… but… Erwin was gone. Six weeks ago today. And while he could give it to Hange… who knew what sort of experiments they might do on it. 

So Levi did the only thing he could think to do. 

He started reading. 

_My dear friend, as we part ways, I wanted to give you this gift. I’ve seen Aunt Zoe carrying one similar to it, although I think she uses it for her research. I told Historia of my plan to give this to you, and she embroidered it herself. I thought that this may be a good way for you to jot down anything exciting that happens to you… or even anything that isn’t exciting. So that when we are together again, you won’t forget a single thing to tell me. I know that you cannot write to me, and while I will miss speaking to you very much, I imagine that it may be far worse for you. Being so far away from everyone who loves you, deep in an enemy and alien world- well, everyone in our cadet class thinks you are very brave. I know you are brave. So if you're too embarrassed to write in a diary, think of this as writing to me. And I selfishly hope that in doing so, you won’t forget me either._

_Yours, E.J. Smith_


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Antonia Wheeler engages in some shady business.

Antonia wasn’t one for pillow talk, or cuddling either, and when she woke up from her restless sleep, she was horribly disappointed to see the man from the night before was still in her bed. She groaned, rubbed her eyes, sat up, popped her back and neck, and then stumbled over to her closet. Her apartment had become a mess, stained tea cups leaving watermarks strung about, dirty clothes dotting the floor, dishes to be done in the sick. She felt a twinge of guilt, but not enough to do anything about it. 

Flipping through her clothes, she decided on one of her simple staples. She pulled on tight, black pants, stealing a quick glance at the unused ODM gear stuffed deep into the corner of her closet, collecting dust. She clipped her black bra around her, buttoning up a white blouse, tying the ends together. Her bra and tattoos slightly shone through the fabric, offering up several more reasons to be disappointed in her. But it was all a part of the character she was playing, and white was an exceptionally good choice for the events that would unfold today. (That, and she didn’t feel like washing her flesh colored underwear anytime soon.) She threw her staple, black trench coat with the red inseam around her shoulders, rolling up the sleeves. Then zipped her leather boots up, making sure to step loudly on the floor boards. 

As she sat at her vanity to begin her makeup, the boy… she couldn’t remember his name… finally stirred. 

“Hey baby… come back to bed.” He moaned, blinking sleep from his eyes. 

“It’s time for you to leave,” she stated, working on her dark eye makeup. 

“Oh come on sweetheart-”

“I said,” She repeated, pulling her gun out from the drawer and loading it, “It’s time for you to leave.”

The boy, wide eyed, bolted out of the bed, gathered his clothes together, and disappeared from the room. Antonia chuckled, sticking the pistol in it’s spot in her coat. Putting the last finishing touches on her makeup and tying her long brown hair into a low, half-hazard bun, she began loading her weapons. 

Two daggers- one for each boot. Another pistol on the opposite side of her coat. Two  _ more  _ daggers, tucked into various places, and a battered, hole-riddled, old white cloth, which she tied around her left wrist. 

Looking in the mirror, satisfied with her over-the-top-attention-calling look, she left the apartment, locking the door behind her. 

Her apartment was in a shit-hole… but it was a shit-hole she  _ owned.  _ And while she could afford to live somewhere much nicer, she preferred to have her tenets and the varying debts they owed her, right under her nose. 

She marched down the hallway of creaking floorboards, arguing tenets, strange smells, and washed out light-bulbs, lighting a cigarette as she strutted. 

Bouncing down the rickety stairs two steps at a time, she opened the last door to her club, which was a complete foil to the rest of the building. In day time it was sleepy; red velvet chairs, a sprawling bar, dark booths tucked into corners, shady but comfortable back rooms. It was washed in that morning light that fervently searched for the sins of the night before, when the club was bathed in that pulsing red glow from the chandeliers above. When expensive and exquisite cocktails poured from the bar like water. Where Liberio's elite gambled with their riches and mingled with her lowlifes. 

Jordan, her book keeper, was sitting in one of the booths, balance sheets spread out in front of him. 

“How’d we do last night?” She asked, leaning against the wall. 

“Great,” He answered, not looking up. “Business is still increasing, more and more every day- and last night was Tuesday.” 

“Good,” She chuckled, taking a drag from her cigarette. “When are they expecting me?”

“Whenever you feel like it.”

“Right- anything else on the agenda today?”

He handed her a slip of paper, eyes still trained on his figures. “This is your  _ To Do  _ list.”

  * _Handle book contracts_


  * Approve liquor reorder


  * Handle business in the basement 



“Just three things today?”

“Yes but they are very long things.”

“What would I do without you Jordan,” she sighed, already heading out the door.

“Crash and burn and die- are you not eating breakfast?

“I never eat breakfast!” 

She squinted against the sun that was now bearing down over her, warming her hands 

around the minimal heat her cigarette offered. It was slowly warming up, but was still a biting cold as winter hung on as tightly as it could to spring. 

The book shop was only down one block, hanging on the edge of the Internment Zone. Anything shady was just one step away from the Eldians, but never quite as bad as that. And this book store stuck out like a sore thumb amongst Liberio’s red light district, squished between a brothel and a dive bar. It closes at six pm, opened at seven am, and how it stayed in business was a mystery. 

Unless you were Antonia Wheeler.

This little bookshop had sucked away a significant portion of her earnings over the past four years, but it was something that she didn’t mind spending money on. In fact, she would have paid whatever price Mr. Cowler wanted her to. 

The bell jingled as she opened the door, and as usual, there was not a single person in the dusty store except for Mr. Cowler himself, looking as ancient as the books he sold. He was reading behind the counter, a small little lamp illuminating every wrinkle. 

“Ah Miss Wheeler, how good it is to see you.” 

“Mr. Cowler,” She answered, leaning over the counter. “What are you reading today?”

“Oh- just an old history book. Have you come for your shipment?”

She nodded, putting out her cigarette in the ashtray he had put under a little figurine of a fox. He had laid it out just for her.

“Right this way then,” He crooned, and Antonia studied the names of the books on the shelves she wandered past. Following Mr. Cowler’s turtle-like pace. He led her down some more dubious stairs (her whole life revolved around dark and creaking stair cases) and unlocked the door to his basement. It wasn’t much, just a darker version of the room upstairs. Boxes of books flung around in such a way that Antonia wondered how he ever kept up with his stock. 

“Care to help an old man out?”

“Of course,” she answered, groaning as she pushed a heavy stack of boxes sitting in the middle of the room off to the side. Bending down to roll back the moth-eaten carpet, she couldn’t help but sneeze as dust blew into her face. 

“Do you have the key?” She asked. 

Mr. Cowler nodded and handed her his key ring, and she fumbled to open the door on the floor. Swinging it open and jumping down, ignoring the short ladder. 

Sitting in front of her were two men and a woman, huddled in the corner, with wide-eyed terrified expressions. That Eldian arm-band threatening to squeeze around each of their bi-ceps. Antonia sighed and pulled up a chair. Sitting in it with one leg propped up, and lighting another cigarette. 

“So,” She began, taking a drag. “Any special skills?”

They stared back at her and she rolled her eyes,  _ so they were these kinds.  _

“Alright easier question, what did you all do for a living?”

“Well…” The first man began. “I was a tailor, my brother was a bartender, and my wife was a waitress.” 

“Oh- well you couldn’t be more on brand. Except for you, do you… have any other skills?”

“I… well I…”

Antonia raised an eyebrow. “He’s strong,” his wife butted in, taking a step forward. “Really strong. He cares about his fitness a lot- it’s his hobby.”

She nodded, biting her lip. “I see. So what did you do to land yourselves here?”

“We were found in connection to an Anti-Marelyan movement. They turned the others into titans… we could only assume we were next.”

“A fair assumption,” she stated, leaning forward on her knees. “This is how this will work. I will pay for the forgery of your Marleyan documents. That will allow you to live outside of the Internment Zone. I will also pay for any cosmetic changes to keep your identities under wraps. This includes hair dye or cuts, any physical modifications, maybe tattoos, so on. Whatever I spend on you will be added to your debt, and you can pay off your debt by working for me. The Tailor as muscle- perhaps a bouncer for my club. The bartender and the waitress can keep their previous gigs. I have a room open above the club, and you are welcome to stay there, but know that rent will be added to your existing debt. Any money you make will go to paying rent first for that month, and then the initial balance. You don’t have to stay with me, but if you rent somewhere else you will be required to show your papers, and while Mr. Cowler’s work is impressive, that always carries risk. I swear to you to never spend incredulous amounts or add more to your debt unfairly if you swear to me to be good employees. Does that sound fair?”

“Yes! Yes… Miss?”

“You may call me Antonia.”

“Thank you- I’m”

“Don’t. Don’t tell me your names.”

The Tailor bit his tongue, taking a step backwards. 

“I’m going to handle business with Mr. Cowler, and I expect to see me in my club this evening. It’s called the Red Swan.”

“Thank you! Thank you so much!”

Antonia smiled grimly, climbing back up the ladder and closing the door behind her. 

“Are you going to keep these ones?” Mr. Cowler asked her, sitting in a little chair and smoking a cigar as Antonia put the room back as she found it.

“Yes, I believe I will. Will this cover the cost?” She asked, handing him a wad of cash. 

“Yes I think it will,” he mumbled, counting the bills. “Thank you for your business, as always Miss. Wheeler. 

“Of course, thank you.”

  
  


After handling the book-keeping with Mr. Cowler, it was already noon, and she headed back to the Red Swan to approve the liquor list. Her head bartender, whom she called Red for her bright auburn hair, had already provided not only a list, but lunch for her boss. 

She ate it while looking over the list and discussing cocktails with Red. Which one’s they should keep, ideas Red had for new ones. She also explained to her that there would be a new addition to the team tonight that would need training on the delicate work the Red Swan concerned itself with. Antonia had made sure to approve just a little bit of extra rum as well. 

When all was said and done at the bar, Antonia pulled her coat off, draping it over her seat. 

“Are you about to handle the business downstairs?” Red asked, polishing a glass in preparation for tonight. 

“Yes- how’s it coming down there?”

“Oh. Well… they’ve just been warming him up for you.”

Antonia grinned, unlocking the door to the basement. 

By the time she made it down another set of creaking stairs, Jordan and Cain were waiting for her, both of them drenched in sweat. 

“Having that much fun, huh boys?” She asked, rolling up her sleeves.

“It’s difficult to make this one scream,” Cain answered, standing a whole foot above her. 

“Well I’ll see what I can do,” Antonia answered, stepping through the steel plated door that Jordan held open for her. Smiling as she heard it lock behind her. 

Sitting in front of her was a middle-aged man, head so heavy he could barely lift it. His arms and legs were tied to the chair, and there were nasty, festering burns up and down his torso and arms- brands no doubt left by Cain and Jordan. 

“Hello Carlyle, I heard that you have been spreading some pretty nasty rumours about me.”

Carlyle chuckled, glaring up at his captor with mirthful eyes. “I’ve never said anything that wasn’t true.”

Antonia nodded slowly, sinking down to crouch on the balls of her feet, elbows on her knees, eye to eye with him. 

“And what have you been saying?”

“I know who you are…” he answered her, a laugh stuck in the corners of his mouth. 

“Sure- everyone does. I’m Antonia Wheeler, the most powerful gang leader in eastern Marley.” 

“No,” He chuckled, saliva dripping from his bulbous mouth. “Your Antonia  _ Ackerman.  _ The lost daughter of an evil, psychopathic, devil captain born from a whore mother.”

“Mmmm, I’m sensing a certain bias in Marley’s favor…” 

“You don’t even deny it.”

“Who did you tell this  _ rumour  _ to?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know, bitch.”

Antonia laughed at the man's obvious lack of experience with curse words, taking her dying cigarrate and stucking the butt to the center of Carlyle’s left check, digging it in as far as she could go, relishing in his whimpers.

“I can do a lot worse than this… who did you tell?”

“I- just….”

“ _ Who. did. You. tell?”  _

“I didn’t tell anyone! I didn’t have time to!”

“Oh is that so?”

“I wasn’t the one doing the telling! It was… I was the one being told!” 

“So then who told you?”

Jordan and Cain listened as the military captain with a hard resolve was broken down by the twenty-year-old girl inside. They listened in as his screams grew louder and louder, eventually replaced by sobs, until they finally stopped. 

And as Antonia stepped out of the cell, she did so covered in blood. The white shirt she had chosen was a red so bright it hurt Jordan’s eyes. 

“Do we have our next target?” Cain asked. 

“Oh we do,” Antonia answered, grey eyes glittering under the crimson that was splattered across her face. “And he’s coming to the club tonight.” 


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Antonia has a conversation with a familiar face.

It was at this time of night that the Red Swan really shone. Military captains gambled with even the lowest ranks, new money lost their gold to old, the nobles and elites of Liberio traded cards with the bums off the street. It was magical and intoxicating, this world that she had constructed. The whole place illuminated in red light, hiding eyes under dark brows. Waitresses bustling around like bees, moving through the crowds as if by witchcraft. Her band perched in the corner, producing music that seemed to use the sound of the crowd as one of their instruments, only adding to the rhythm of brass conversation. 

It was such a myriad of people that to the untrained eye, it would be impossible to focus on any one person. But Antonia was able to spot her welcomed guests from across the room, lounging in a round booth and ordering drinks from her new recruit, who had been thrust into the deep end without mercy. To her credit, this group stuck out like a sore thumb, the only people in the bar who had the misfortune of donning that Eldian star. 

But these Eldians were famous, celebrated Marelyan war heroes. These were the men and women who Antonia grew up hearing stories about; the monsters under her bed. 

“Soldiers,” she greeted with a wide grin, hands in her suit pockets. “What an honor it is to have the Warriors in my club tonight. I see that Falco left me a glowing review.”

She had made Falco’s acquaintance about a week prior, on a night when she was feeling particularly restless. He was less than experienced in bed, but he was older, pushing thirty, and a recognized soldier; two things she admired. She also knew he was special from the moment she saw that armband, and decided that he was a good victim to add to her collection of men wrapped around her fingers. Tonight proved that she was right. 

“Falco do you know this woman? Is she a friend of yours?” One of the women asked, the oldest one there, spots of grey in her black hair. “Why don’t you introduce us?”

Falco cleared his throat, “Uh, of course. Antonia,” he began, gesturing to each person as he went down the booth (he was sitting on the left edge). “This is Zofia Reitsch, Gabi Braun, 

Udo Bock, and Colt Grice. Those four and myself are Warrior Candidates, so we’re all training to inherit Titans one day. Colt is already set to have the Beast Titan. And then these four are Zeke Jaeger- he’s the Captain, Peik Finger, Porco Galliard, and Reiner Braun. They're already Warriors. And this,” Falco said, now turning his gaze to Antonia, “Is Antonia Wheeler, she owns this place.”

“How did you come to meet her?” Zeke asked, leaning back in his seat. 

“I- uh… I”

“Falco was here with some friends a couple days ago,” Antonia interjected. “Come to think of it... Reiner were you here too?”

He nodded, “yes, I was meeting with one of the other captains.”

“I must not have had the pleasure of meeting you then,” she cutted. “Well, I just wanted to thank you for your service. It truly is such an honor to have all of the Warriors and their successors in my humble establishment.”

“Thank you!” Gabi responded, a young woman who Antonia could already tell had too much energy for her own good. “It’s my birthday today- Falco suggested we come here.”

“Oh! How old are you turning?” 

“Well, you wouldn’t believe it but I am somehow already thirty.”

“Thirty already and you still don’t have your own titan?”

“Well…” She said with a wicked grin, “don’t tell anyone, but it was just announced that I’ll take the Armored Titan next.”

“Gabi,” Zofia scolded, punching her in the shoulder. 

“Well in that case drinks are on me,” Antonia answered, clapping her hands together. “Should you need anything, just come and find me.” 

“Thank you again, Miss. Wheeler,” Zeke answered, taking a sip from his beer. “You know… you look familiar, have I met you somewhere?”

“I get that all the time,” she answered with a sideways glance to Reiner. “I just have one of those faces. I also tend to make my way around Liberio.”

“Of course,” he answered curtly, and Antonia gave a charming smile as she turned on her heel and returned to her throne at the bar. 

_ Did he know too?  _ She would have her answer soon enough. Laying out the club’s mechanics in her mind’s eye, she kept a watchful glare on the group of Warriors. She observed as they sat in that booth, drinking the cocktails that Antonia kept forcing the waitress to keep full to the rim. She did notice how Reiner kept his hand on the stem, but never raised the glass to his lips. He seemed to be watching Antonia with as much vigilance as she was watching him. 

Eventually, the group moved locations to play cards, betting between them their own personal chores. They laughed and chatted together like siblings; family that had known each other for decades. Antonia had seen that once before. 

Reiner, who for all she had heard about him was failing miserably tonight at the use of a good poker face, ran out of chips and was out of the game. He got up and moved back to the booth, taking a small, non-existent sip of her cocktail. 

Finally. Alone. 

“Margot,” Antonia called to one of her waitresses, “go to tell that big blonde man that I have a private room prepared for him.” The girl nodded, and Antonia bit her lip as she made her way into one of the little back rooms, a velvet curtain separating it from the club. Inside it was a comfortable, massive couch, lounge chairs, silks and velvets and soft things of all colors. She took off her suit jacket and laid it on the back of one of the chairs, rolling up her sleeves. 

“I didn't order a private room,” Reiner said curtly. She turned to face him, a smirk on that familiar face, stepping around the man who was twice her size and closing the rolling door behind her. Suddenly the sounds of the club were muffled, and it was just the two of them. 

“Nonetheless, I’m pleased you accepted the invitation.” 

It was at this moment that Reiner noticed the dried blood on the sleeves of Antonia’s shirt- one she hadn’t bothered to change. “Are you going to kill me?”

“With all your friend’s here?” She scoffed. “I’m not stupid.”

“Really? You struck me as so.”

“How so?”

“If you're trying to hide your identity, you're failing miserably.You dress exactly like Captain Levi, you wear his cravat like an accessory, you look exactly like him. You're the spitting image.”

“Is that how you found me out? Looks alone?”

“You're both rude.”

She laughed, “I can’t argue with you on that one. But if I remember correctly, on the night you came I wasn’t dressed like this at all. I was wearing a sparkling red cocktail dress, and had his cravat tied into my hair. I didn’t even speak to you that night- do I really look that much like him?”

“It was your drink.’

“My drink?”

“You hold your cup the same way. From the rim.”

_ Oh.  _ “Well a habit is a habit… so, you see a girl who holds her cup the same way that the man who haunts your nightmares does, and you tell a captain, not even  _ your  _ captain, that you think she’s an Ackerman spy from Paradis?”

He nodded slowly, golden eyes trained on her every movement. “How did you know?”

“Have you met Mrs. Carlyle?”

“Yes… briefly.”

“Well she’s a lot younger than him. Entered into a marriage at her parent’s request she wasn’t particularly excited about. The two of us met at a party a couple years ago, became close. She’s a dear friend of mine- and Carlyle has a habit of talking in his sleep. She told me that he was muttering things about me, and words like “Ackerman” and “Paradis” were in the conversation too. She told me because she thought I might get a laugh from it, but naturally I had my men detain him the next day. I doubt Mrs. Carlyle will care much that he’s gone, she’ll finally have the freedom of a widow.” 

“Did you kill him?”

“Obviously.”

“They will arrest you for that.”

“Well sure. Except that Captain Caryle died in a car crash.”

“What?”

“Oh yes. At this very moment a nasty crash is happening a few blocks down. Several eyewitnesses saw Caryle leave Madame Claires after spending a blissful night and day there, incredibly intoxicated. He was at the wheel, and unfortunately met his demise.” 

Reiner sat there for a moment, and Antonia could just see the wheels turning over in his brain. “...am I right?”

“Right about what.”

“Is Levi your father?”

“Yes.”

He sat there for a long moment in silence, baffled, before he finally responded with “ _ how? _ ”

“Well Reiner, when a man and a woman love each other very much-”

“No. I mean, who is your mother?”

“Good question.”

“You don’t know?”

“I know she was someone he cared about. They met about a year after they re-captured Wall Maria. They never married, and they kept their relationship a secret. No one in the scout regiment knew, not even Hange. She died in childbirth. He never told me anything other than that.” 

“He didn’t even tell Erwin?”

“Erwin is dead?”

“What?”

“Yeah your baseball star Zeke killed him with a fucking boulder.”

“Oh.”

“How did you not know that?”

“Zeke doesn’t know faces! He didn’t know who Erwin was. And I never…. I just… didn’t know.” 

“Yeah he seems like a really great guy,” she deadpanned. 

“Is he?”

“Is he what.”

“Is he dead?”

Antonia sighed, rubbing the back of her neck.

“How?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“He went on leave when I was born. But when I was eleven Hange called him back, they just… they needed him on the front lines. She knocked on my door when I was twelve. Told me he wasn’t coming home.”

“I did see him. Once. Ten years ago on the Central Front. We all avoided him- didn’t throw any shifters his way.”

“Smart call.” 

“I guess now we can make a move on the Central Front… break the stalemate” 

“You can  _ try. _ ”

“So what now?”

“What do you mean?”

“If you're not going to kill me tonight… when will you?”

“Depends on how you answer these next couple questions.”

He sighed, eyes on the floor. “What are they?”

“Did Carlyle tell anyone else?” 

“I told him not to. I told him that I wanted to be the one to tell my superiors. No one takes him seriously, but he agreed to let me have the win, so.”

“And did you tell anyone else?”

“No.”

Antonia raised an eyebrow. “Not even Zeke?”

“No.”

“I half expected the group of you to arrest me the moment I walked up to you. You mean to tell me that you genuinely just came here to celebrate Gabi’s birthday?”

“Yes.”

“So if you were so dead set on being the one to tell your superiors… If you were serious I would be dead already. You would have told someone the moment you got home. Furthermore… Galliard has Ymir’s memories, and Zeke met my father briefly- none of them recognized me tonight?”

“Zeke has spent the last twenty years trying to forget about Levi. And Galliard… his memories of Ymir aren’t very clear and he never pays close attention. Zeke mentioned it once- how he felt like he knew you from somewhere after you left. I told him that you were at a military event a couple months ago- which you were right?”

Antonia’s eyes shot up, “Have you known since then?”

“Yes.” 

She scoffed and sat down, “you’ve known for four months?”

He nodded. 

“Well Reiner you’ve got me good and confused, which is quite a feat. If you’ve truly known for four months… why didn’t… are you watching me? Waiting to see if I lead you back to the Scouts?”

_ “I  _ have been watching you. But I swear I haven’t told anyone.”

“Why?”

“I was curious. Your right, while you and Levi hold your glasses in an entirely impractical and strange way, that doesn’t mean that you were somehow related to him. You forget that I was in your position in Paradis when I was your age. I know what you're going through, I know how you hide. When I was in Paradis I couldn’t contact Marley, but I wanted to see if you could somehow get in contact with the Scouts. In the four months I’ve been tailing you you never once made an effort to get a letter or message out. In fact,  _ nothing  _ you do remotely connects to the Scouts in any way. You cozy up to powerful people, but you never really ask them questions, you never gather intel. Sure, I noticed how you aid distressed Eldians, but you give them jobs in your bar or just ask them to return a favor for you at some point. I don’t see how that would outrightly benefit the Scouts. You look just like Levi, and you both are sharp as a tack and rude with your speech, but you act totally different. Where Levi was reserved, you party hard, and you sleep around, and you're messy. You dress in a way that’s attention-seeking and over the top. So my question for you Antonia, is what exactly are _ you  _ doing here?”

She smiled, a twisted wicked grin from ear to ear. “I’m impressed, Reiner. I thought that my security was top notch. I am thoroughly surprised that you were able to trail me for that long.” 

He looked at her for a long moment, studying every muscle in that cocky face, the way that her gray eyes sparkled, the relaxed nature of her crossed legs and arms stretched across the back of the couch, before stating in a tone of utter disbelief, “you knew?”

“I went to that military event for that purpose. To see if you would figure it out. I’ve had my men trailing you ever since.”

“So… everything you’ve done these past four months…”

“I knew you were watching.”

“I- why?”

“Same reason as you. I was curious. I heard stories about poor, insane Reiner. Split down the middle by two different worlds, two different people. It’s ironic, considering what you did to Marco. As punishment for halving a man you too were halved.”

He stood, every bone rigid. “How do you know about Marco?”

“You're not the only one who talks in their sleep.” 

“You-”

“And it’s true. You are insane. You told Caryle because you wanted to see what I can/woul do,  _ and  _ because he wanted to give the Armored Titan to Gabi. You wanted it to be Falco, right?”

“I-”

“Turns out Caryle wasn’t the only one who wanted Gabi. So having me get rid of him was a lost cause for you. You haven’t told your superiors about me for the same reason you, a suicidal basket case, won’t give up your titan. You know the second you and Zeke give up your titans, a date that is rapidly approaching, is the second Marley makes a second attempt on the stalemate on the front lines. All of this for the same reason that you won’t just go ahead and turn traitor. You are equally loyal to both Marley and Paradis. You feel immense guilt for what you did to Paradis, and you hate the way that Marley treats it’s Eldians, but Paradis is the enemy from your youth, and Marley is your home. You're a man torn in two. I dressed like my father tonight, a risk I didn’t really know I was taking because I didn’t know Zeke and Galliard would be here, just to fuck with you.” 

“So… all of this… you blew your cover just to fuck with me?”

She grinned. 

“You… you're a suicidal sadistic bitch.”

“And I know you won’t tell anyone. In fact you're going to help me. You're going to deliver a series of letters for me to the front lines from the international port in the capitol building. I don’t have access to that building unless I break in, which defeats the purpose. My letters would be found out. Furthermore, if you should ever hear a rumour of an Ackerman in Liberio, you are to tell me  _ immediately.  _ If you don’t do this for me, I will do two things. I will kill Falco, maybe even Gabi too. And before you question whether or not I can do that from prison or even beyond the grave, you should know that the answer to that question is a resounding yes. And I will out you as an accomplice- you  _ are  _ an accomplice as you held onto the information that an Ackerman was in Liberio for _ four months. _ You, and the kids you love lives would be over. Do we have an understanding?” 

He glared at her for a long moment, and Antonia laughed to herself as she gave him a once over. How this massive, blonde Warrior thought he could successfully spy on her was one of the funnier things that had happened to her.

“Who are the letters going to?”

“I don’t think you're in a position to ask questions.

“You know… I don’t think I’d even have to turn into a titan to kill you.”

“You can try, but I don’t think you’ll like what will happen if you succeed.”

He looked ready to murder her, hands balled into fists, eyes dark. “I’ll do it,” he finally groaned out, drenched in sweat. “But you have to tell me what your mission is.”

“Oh Reiner, I already told you. It’s to fuck with you.”


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Antonia receives a letter from an old friend. (Also a little bit of smut at the beginning- your welcome)

All Antonia could focus on was how his blonde hair curled between her fingers, how soft it felt in her hands. The way his palms squeezed around her hips, how blue his eyes were as he gazed up at her. She could feel him smirk against her core, relishing in the way that he could make her arc her back and her fingers twist the bed sheets. He took one look at her and decided to drag his tongue through her folds in a slow, antagonizing way, stopping to suck at her clit. She moaned in response, pulling at his hair with one hand and digging the other into her sheets. 

Her breathing became labored, her eyes glazed over, as he took two fingers and slid them inside her at a rhythm that was perfect and persistent. 

_“I’ve got you Ann”_

She refused to look at him; to even acknowledge anything other than his mouth. She just wanted to feel his tongue as it circled around her most sensitive spots, feel her walls throb around his fingers, onward and upwards. She didn’t want to think about anything else, didn’t want to feel anything but the sensations down below. 

She bit her lip so hard it drew blood when she felt the vibrations from his chuckles, amused at how he could make her whine, totally at his control.

_She would fix that._

Hooking her ankles around his back she pulled him up and over to sit on his face, grinding her pussy into his mouth. She would climax on her own terms; he was just a means to an end. 

_No. He has blonde hair and blue eyes and a smile that could light up any room._

“Yes,” she moaned as she thought of him, grinding deeper and deeper into his tongue. Her hands clasped her breasts, his held on to her ass for dear life, as she finally, slowly, came like a cord snapping in two. She threw her head back and groaned in a way that she knew some of her tenets could hear. She didn’t care. 

Finally, after slowly bucking her hips to ease her fall, she lifted herself off him, horribly sensitive. 

“So,” he sighed, out of breath, “is it my turn?”

 _Oh._ She looked back at the man she had been riding. This stranger with ruddy hair and muddy brown eyes. He had a cocky smirk on his face that projected _fuck me_ but all it really communicated to Antonia was _punch me._

She couldn’t help but sneere as she pulled herself off the bed, wrapping her body in a blanket. 

“What? You get off and I don’t?”

She looked at him, disgust written all over her face. “Yeah.”

“Excuse me?” he scoffed. “How is that fair? Imagine how I feel!”

“You should go ask all the other girls you fuck how they feel about it,” she answered, putting her teapot on the kettle. 

“You bitch, I knew that I shouldn't have eaten you out- I always make it a rule only to do that with girls who are _really_ attractive.”

“Then you must not get any repeat business”

“Bitch I-”

“Listen… what was your name?”

“You don’t-”

“Ok fine Mr. Whatever. I got you off last night, and then I _let_ you sleep in my bed. And then I graced you with my cum this morning. So _now_ is the part where you leave before I kick your ass all the way across the sea to be eaten by a motherfucking titan. Are we clear?” 

“I’m never coming back to your bar,” he spat as he gathered up his clothes. 

“Oh no I’m so sad,” she answered with an over-exaggerated pout, pushing him out the door and slamming it behind him. 

She peered out the window to try and get a read on how the weather was fairing today, ignoring how she could hear him cursing as he stomped down the stairs. It was a grey and dreary, the kind of day where the sky looked like it was holding on to rain like diamonds, desperately needing to let go but stubbornly refusing to rain. The snow had almost melted since she had spoken to Reiner, and outside of the letter she had received from him a week after their conversation letting her know that he had “dropped off her packages,” she hadn’t heard from him. Which she guessed was a good thing, that was his purpose after all. She couldn’t think of a situation in which he would contact her that wouldn’t bear bad news. 

Sighing deeply, she pulled on a grey sweater that was too large for her and some pants with a looser waist. (Not bothering to put on a bra.) Wrapping her feet in knit socks, she rolled up the sleeves of her sweater after putting her hair up. 

She put one of her records on, stretched her arms, and eyed her new cup of tea for a moment before deciding to add a little bit of bourbon to the mix. Pulling a blanket off her bed, she grabbed her current book, and snuggled into her window seat. The whole right side of her wall was windows, and on a dismal day like today, the thought of descending into a book with a nice cup of tea was the most appealing option to her. 

But as she tried to read her thrilling book about a con team and their elaborate heist, her eyes kept drifting out the window. It never seemed to get this cold back home, but the sky looked like this the day she enlisted. Hange had nearly fallen over herself trying to convince her not to, but Antonia couldn’t think of anything better to do. Her father’s tea shop went under after he died and she had been living in the Queen’s Orphanage. It had been two years, she was fourteen now, and the idea of spending another minute surrounded by toddlers sounded more unappealing than war at the time. 

Antonia jumped at the sound of wrapping on her door, jolting her out of her stupor. 

_“Fuck,_ ” she swore, “goddammit Jordan you can just come in.”

Jordan gingerly entered the room, closing the door and leaning on it. “I wanted to make sure you weren’t… engaged.” 

“Very funny, what do you need?”

He pursed his lips and handed her a battered-looking envelope. “This was delivered today, it’s not addressed to you but it has the right address and your last name.”

She took it in her hands and ran her fingers over the writing on the address, trying to quiet the beating of her heart. 

_Kuchel Wheeler_

_12 Rose St_

“Do you know who Kuchel is?” Jordan asked, hands in his pockets and leaning on his heels. 

“My grandmother,” she muttered. 

“Oh. I didn’t know you had family in town.”

“I don’t- it’s also my middle name. Who delivered this?”

“Just some really tall blonde girl.”

“Huh,” _that didn’t ring any bells._ She looked up at Jordan, who for some reason was stubbornly still standing in the middle of her bedroom. “Do you need anything else?”

“No…”

She raised her eyebrows and nodded her head towards the door. Finally taking the hint he left her alone, although he looked quite sullen doing so.

The second Antonia was alone again she fell to the floor, digging her shaking fingers between the floorboards. 

Hidden in her floor was everything she loved. Among those items were two scouting badges, one belonging to her father, and the other to Erwin Smith. She was safekeeping it for a friend. There was a little journal with _Ackerman_ embroidered on the cover. It was meant for her to keep track of her stories, but the doofus who gave it to her decided to embroider her biggest secret on the cover, so she kept it hidden. At first she couldn’t bring herself to write in it, knowing she was disappointing him with her lack of enthusiasm. She was… afraid she wouldn’t do it right. But these past few days she had found herself missing him more than usual, and was drawn to that little black book. There was also the badge from her training, the 111th embroidered on the back. Her father’s favorite tea cup, a ribbon she wore in her hair when she was little, and a pressed flower he had given her were a few examples of the little knick knacks and trinkets she kept in there that reminded her of home. Digging around, she found a sample of Hange’s handwriting. 

Tearing the envelope open, she skipped the main text and went straight to Hange’s signature, obsessively scrutinizing it against the sample. 

“Shit, this is real,” she whispered, eyes widening. 

Satisfied, she began reading. 

_Dear Antonia,_

_It has been four years since my last contact with you, and we were all thrilled to receive your letters a few days ago. I know that I told you that contacting us was not all that important and certainly not your biggest concern, but I must admit that I have missed you and was certain you would find a way to reach us. I also know that I should be more frugal with paper and get straight to business, but I’m sure you are anxious to hear how your family is, and I am anxious to tell you, so I’ll be your Aunt Zoe for a moment before your Commander._

_First of all, I am glad to hear that you are doing well. Reports of a young upstart in Liberio have reached even our ears on the Island, and I am very proud of you. Truthfully, I cannot express how excited everyone was to receive your letters. They were passed around with such ferocity that they are now very battered, I had to fight to save them to bring to the Queen, who sends her love._

_An update on how everyone is doing: Things haven’t changed much among the 104th. Sasha is still happily married to Niccolo, and she just had her second child whom she named Marco. She’s on maternity leave right now but fully intends to return to the Scouts afterwards. Niccolo is a very good stay-at-home father. Armin and I are working closely together to improve Paradis’ navy, which I think he enjoys. I think the stale-mate has been good for him- given him time to catch his breath. Mikasa, Jean, and Connie are on the front lines right now, each respectively leading their own squad, but things have been dull. Not a lot of action, and all three of them get to come home every other month. Eren is moodier than ever, probably moodier than you remember him, although I’m not sure how well you remember him- I know you didn’t spend too much time together. I’ve tried to keep Eren away from the front line, he’s a little bit overly enthusiastic and this stale-mate, while not good in the long term, is allowing us to regroup and prepare. I don’t want him ruining that or giving away our position. So right now he’s sulking- hence the moodiness. I assigned him to protect Queen Historia, and I think he’s bored, but their friendship has improved._

_Among your friends in the 111th, Lina Dawk has made an impression and is rising quickly up the ranks of the Military Police. She asks after you every time I see her. Keerie and Karl Brzenska are doing well inside the Scout regiment. I assigned both of them to Connie’s squad. I’m studying whether or not being under his command will make them funnier or not. So far the results are positive._

_Your boy asks about you Every. Single. Day. I swear I get questions about your return constantly. To the point where I make him do push-ups every time he says your name. (That’s my present to you). Mikasa’s squad gets the most action, and so I placed him under her command. He needed a distraction almost more than you did. I don’t know if you were nervous about him moving on these past four years. He told me once that you said it was alright for him to when you left, but he still pines after you. His roommates say he mutters your name in his sleep every once and a while. Truthfully Antonia I haven’t seen this sort of attachment since your father and Erwin or Mikasa and Eren. I have a hypothesis that it could be a trait of your Ackerman heritage… which brings me to business._

_I know that you want to come home. Some of the others took your request in your letters lightly, but I know how professional you are when it comes to these things. You wouldn’t ask me unless it was something you really wanted._

_Unfortunately, I am not ready to extract you yet._

_While I want dearly to bring you home, there is still work to be done in Marley. Work that I think may hit close to your heart. Your father never had trouble with his emotions, but I know that’s something that you struggle with, so I challenge you to keep them in check. I know from him that you are capable of turning them off, although I hypothesize that your father’s temperament was a result of his rough upbringing. Even so._

_You have done an excellent job creating a spy network in Marley, as well as securing safe houses and resources, but your next mission will be reconnaissance. I have heard rumours that there is a scientist in Marley studying the Titan experiments done several hundred years ago; the experiments that created the Ackerman Clan and others like it. I don’t think he knows of your existence. Even growing up on the island, your parentage was kept a secret between myself, the 104th, and your boy after your father’s death for this exact reason. Even so, be careful Antonia. He might not know about you specifically, but he_ is _looking for Ackermans. Attempts on the front lines to kidnap Mikasa have already occured (although none of them have come close)._

_It is imperative that this scientist is not allowed to make a breakthrough. The studies I did on you, your father, and Mikasa when you were a child were enough to prove to me just how special your family is. Your abilities make the lot of you pseudo-super soldiers. If they were able to replicate those experiments they could create matches for you and Mikasa’s talent, maybe enhance those abilities. Were still behind Marley technically, and you and your family are assets we can not afford to lose. I’ve tried my best to convince Mikasa to marry Jean (who still bugs her) and have a child, if only to carry the line, but she refuses. I will not put that pressure on you after seeing what it did to my relationship to Mikasa, but it does solidify to me how important it is that that technology does not fall into the wrong hands._

_The scientist’s name is Charles Upker, and he is on the opposite side of Liberio to you. I need you to go to his lab, steal his research, and destroy the rest. The woman who delivered this letter's name is Yelena. She is working with Zeke, and instructions on how to contact her are on the back of this letter. She will help you find Upker._

_On that note. I know you don’t trust Zeke, truthfully I don’t either. That’s why I don’t trust Yelena to do this job alone. But contacting/tormenting Reiner instead of Zeke is by far the most reckless thing I have ever seen you do… and I’ve seen you do some pretty reckless things. Zeke has been watching you, and as soon as you contacted Reiner he spoke to him. Reiner is now aware of Zeke’s treachery and you have endangered both yourself and our operation. I know the hatred you have for Zeke- better than you do, and I understand why you wanted to play with Reiner, but this isn’t a game. I didn’t send you over there to familiarize yourself with the Warrior Unit or make friends of those who so deeply betrayed us. Zeke assures us that he thinks Reiner is impartial, and is only involved because you forced him to be. But that’s my point. He’s only involved because you forced him to be. My warning to you is that the second you endanger any one of the Warrior Training Unit is the second he turns against Paradis. I order you to cease communication with the Warrior Unit outside of Yelena._

_I don’t have a timeline over when you can come home, but my dear I am afraid that it will at least be another year or two. I think two years is more likely an estimate. You have done a wonderful job preparing the way for us, but there are still things to be done. I miss you, we all miss you, but our duty comes first._

_Yours,_

_Commander Hange Zoe_

Antonia turned the letter over, observing an address and a time that she assumed was where she was meant to meet with Yelena. Slowly folding the paper, she placed it back in the envelope, tucked it into her journal, placed it in the floor, replaced the floor board, and started to cry. 

She hated it, rubbing away her tears before they could even leave her lash line. Above her stood her father, hands crossed and unable to look at her, the way he did every time she had cried, even when she was still a small child. 

When she was young she wanted to hit him for looking like that. She wanted him to hold her when she felt like this, to wipe away her tears and tell her it would be okay. And he did do that, in his own way, when she had calmed down. 

But it didn’t change that Antonia had to learn how to comfort herself when she was a child. Something that _he_ had tried to unravel in her. 

How disappointed would Levi be in her, to see her sniffing and tearing on the floor of her messy apartment. 

She just felt like she was missing _so much._ She missed everyone so much. She wanted to meet Sasha’s kid. Her oldest, Elia, had been six when she left. She was one of the few children that Antonia knew in her semi-adult life, and she had been their chief baby-sitter. She had spent hours at Niccolo and Sasha’s house, eating his cooking and playing with their baby. Did Elia even remember her? 

She missed Keerie and Lina and Karl. She missed staying up too late with them in the bunks during training, talking about which regiment they would join, why they signed up, pulling pranks on people they didn’t like. 

She missed him the most. The way his hair smelled like sandpaper and sweat, the way he would furrowed his eyebrows when he thought too hard. She missed trying to out-train him, pushing past her endurance, him encouraging her to do more than she thought she could. She missed the way he held her, the way her hand fit inside his. 

Antonia wanted to go _home._

She longer for her own bed, in the house she grew up in. She wanted to brew her own tea in her fathers tea pot that had been stained with over thirty years of use. She wanted to sit in the window of her bedroom and watch people walk by, chatting about unimportant things. 

_Two more years._ This mission was already longer than intended. She thought that any minute now, she would get the go ahead to get on a ship and travel across the waves and be in the arms of those she loved again. That at any second, she would hear the whiz of ODM gear and look up to see her family. 

Two more years. She couldn’t even see the light at the end of the tunnel like she once could. 

And now these spiteful, hateful tears rolled down her cheeks, not caring that Antonia was doing everything she could to keep them from being there. 

Through the fog that crying often leaves you in, she wondered if this wasn’t some punishment for her. 

Punishment that she wasn’t as good a soldier as her father was.


	5. Chapter Five- Levi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi and Hange discuss the strange journal Eren brought him that morning. Made some edits to make it sound more like Levi.

It had been days since Hange had seen Levi. He was always in his office, which had also become his room- that or aggressively cleaning every inch of the Scout headquarters. And they finally had some paperwork for him to do. It was… not the most fun thing for them to give him to do. Most of it was death records releasing the bodies of the scouts who fell during Wall Maria to their families. Also so that they had those deaths on files. So no, it wasn’t the best thing for them to give him to distract himself but it gave them a reason to go to his office and while they hated to admit it, they missed him. He got pissed when they visited without reason, but Hange was becoming increasingly more lonely without Erwin and Moblit- 

No. They weren’t going to think about that today. They let out a sigh of relief that the door was unlocked, they would have kicked it in anyway, but it was something that they were glad didn’t have to be on the list. 

Levi was sitting on his couch, nose stuck in some book in a way that Hange had never seen before. They had seen Levi read, mostly late at night when he couldn’t sleep, but never this fervently. He had a blanket around his shoulders, a cup of tea in his hand, and eyes furrowed with the same focus he had in battle. 

And when he say them enter his room, he glared up at her with the anger they saw in him on the rare occasions he really showed his talents in battle.

“Um. What the fuck did I do?” They asked, slapping the paperwork on his desk. 

“Nothing,” he grumbled, eyes going back to the page, only this time they could tell he wasn’t reading. 

“I must have done something for you to sulk like that,” they asked again, hands on their hips. 

He didn’t answer her. Just continued to pretend to read and simmer with the heat of something they did unknowingly. 

“What are you reading?”

“Nothing,” he growled again, not looking at them. 

“Really? Because it sort of looks like there's a book in your hand.” 

“Go. Away.”

“Why are you mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you.”

“You obviously are.”

“Leave Hange,” he bit, tensing his shoulders. 

“No,” they countered, suddenly feeling defiant and sitting on the other end of the couch. “Not till you tell me what’s wrong with you.”

“Nothing is wrong with me.”

“Well. Let me rephrase. There is  _ a lot  _ wrong with you but I mean what’s wrong with you now. Why are you mad at me.”

“I’m. Not.” He answered with the festering anger of a swollen sore. 

“Yes. You. Are.”

_ “Hange,”  _ he hissed, voice like gravel.

They recoiled a bit. Hange had never seen him this angry. 

“Levi. I swear if you don’t tell me what I did wrong-”

And it was then that Levi stood up, grabbed the back of Hange’s collar, and dragged them out of his room. Throwing them into the wall of the hallway and slamming the door shut. 

“I will remind you that I’m your commander now!” They called after him, but even they knew that the statement felt empty. 

Hange had work to do.  _ A lot  _ of work. Transitionary assistance for Historia, new Scout search, plans for the Scouts and Garrison Unit moving forward, Marley research, titan cleanup plans for the interior of Wall Maria… but all they could think about was the anger behind Levi’s eyes. They paced the floor of Erwin’s office, no,  _ their  _ office, back and forth, back and forth, wracking their brain for a reason for Levi’s anger. 

And it bothered them more than they would like to admit. Levi was one of the few friends they had left, after Nanaba, Miche, Moblit, Erwin…

_ Stop it…  _ They told themselves they  _ wouldn’t  _ think about them today. 

They were pulled out of their stupor with a knock on the door, nearly knocking over a glass out of how much it startled her. She had only been in this office a couple of weeks and it was already a mess. 

They opened the door and there was Levi, glaring up at her with eyes that were ready to roll and carrying that book in his hand. He took a sharp inhale when he saw the interior of the office, and swallowed hard as he said “we should take a walk.”

“We can talk in here- I can clean it up real quick-”

“No,” he answered quickly. “A walk would do fine.”

Hange nodded and began to follow him down the hall, closing the door behind themselves. 

They walked in silence for a while, leaving the castle and walking through the grounds. Forests always reminded Hange of titans, and even though they were safe behind Wall Rose, they couldn’t help but feel that there was one peering behind every corner. 

“I’m sorry I was angry with you.”

“Woah! An apology! From you? I better write this down.”

“Don’t make me regret it.”

“Are you going to tell me why you were mad at me?”

He sighed and looked at the book he was carrying. “I was mad because you won’t let my daughter come home.” 

“Shit,” they swore, pushing their glasses up the bridge of theri nose. “The one time Erwin owes me money and he’s too dead to deliver.”

_ “What?” _ Levi asked, stopping in his tracks and looking up at them. 

“We had a bet on who out of three of us would lose their mind first. He said me. I said you, “You're so… collected. I just figured you’d snap at some point.”

He sighed and handed them the book, rolling his eyes. 

“What is this? Is it some kind of journal?” their heart twinged for a moment, “did Erwin keep a journal?”

“No this isn’t Erwin’s.” 

After Hange had left his room involuntarily, Levi had thought long and hard about it. How Antonia described them wasn’t very consistent with the Hange he knew at least, and with the Hange he knew, he figured that out of everyone they would be the most willing to believe him. And the only one who’s smart enough to come up with some answers as to the book’s origin and credibility. 

“It's embroidered, says Ackerman…” they mused out loud, wandering the trail and studying the cover. 

“No shit four-eyes,” Levi muttered. 

“Levi,” they asked, stopping in her tracks. “Are you giving me your diary?”

“No! No I don’t… You think that  _ I  _ would keep a diary?”

“You must put your feelings  _ somewhere, _ ” they responded, flipping through the pages. “If it’s not yours is it Mikasa’s? Or your parents or Kenny?”

“I told you already. Whoever wrote it claims to be my daughter.” 

Hange’s eyes widened. “Who else were you fucking!” 

“No one! I- who  _ else? _ Who do you think-”

“How old were you? Levi if I find out that you have a bastard daughter out there that you haven’t been providing for I will kick-”

“No! No- she hasn’t been born yet.” 

Hange stared at him for a moment, chewing on their bottom lip and studying her the way she sometimes studied Titans. Levi shifted on his feet. “I knew it. You’ve gone insane. I mean as long as you can still flip around on ODM-”

“Look,” he interrupted, flipping the pages for Hange. “The forward is dated in the year 868- that’s eighteen years in the future. And the first couple entries are in 872. Twenty-two years from now.”

“Where did you get it?”

“Eren gave it to me. Said he found it in his dorm this morning.”

“Eren… maybe this has something to do with his Titan form… however...”

“However what?”

“I think it’s much more likely that this is a prank the kids are pulling on you.”

“Do you honestly think that  _ Eren Jaeger  _ would write an entire diary just to fuck with me. To fuck with  _ me.” _

“You have a point,” they grumbled, studying the pages. 

“There’s something else too.”

“Well don’t keep it to yourself.”

He ran his fingers along his jacket sleeve. He hated being so… descriptive with them. “When I read it… it’s not like I’m reading.”

“How so?”

“It’s… more like I’m there but I’m not. It’s like looking into someone else’s memories. 

“Interesting,” they muttered. “Eren and Armin mentioned that that’s how people who had their titans first memories feel like; when they look back on them.”They returned their attention to the journal, studying the pages, reading random passages. “Levi!”

“What?”

“Let me get this straight.”

“Okay,” he sighed, already annoyed with the research floodgate he knew opening this door for them was going to let loose. 

“So you think that this diary was written by your daughter twenty-two years into the future… and that it’s like living through her memories… but Levi there is  _ sex  _ in here.”

“Oh! I skipped that part!” He assured, and Hange swallowed a laugh when they saw a slight redness in his cheeks. They didn’t feel like having their ass kicked today. 

“You know if anyone else had said that to me I would have called bullshit,” Hange teased, hands on their hips. “But coming from you I believe it. I can barely imagine you being comfortable holding someone’s hand.”

“Thank you?”

“But I also can’t imagine you having sex with a woman,” they said, making a gagging noise. 

“I- why so specific? What are you getting at?”

“Any idea who the mother is?” They asked, ignoring his question. 

“I don’t know, Antonia hasn’t said yet.” 

“And you think Antonia is your daughter?” Hange clarified. 

“Yes. Keep up Hange I thought you were smart.”

“There’s no one now that you-”

“No.” He interrupted. “I… I would never purposefully… I wouldn’t… I have no intention of starting a family at any point but...”

Hange had never seen him so tongue tied. “But…?”

“This ‘Antonia,’ or whoever wrote this, knows things that I don’t talk about.”

“Like what?”

“Hange what is my mother’s name?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you know anything about my mother?”

“No you don’t talk-”

“I don’t talk about her. Or myself. Yet this girl or whoever wrote this knows my mother’s name. Says it’s her middle name. She talks about me like she  _ knows  _ me. She paints me as a bad father which honestly Hange I would be. Her speech pattern sounds like Kenny’s, she makes the same kind of tea I make, she knows  _ details  _ about my life; like how I’ve used the same tea pot since I was twenty, I don’t talk about that? Who would  _ notice  _ that? She looks  _ exactly  _ like my mother. Like… I…”

“You don’t have to talk about her if you don’t want to,” Hange dismissed, lowering their voice. 

Levi nodded, swallowing something. “And there’s this,” he added, fishing the letter that was stuck between the pages out of his jacket pocket. “This  _ was not there  _ the first time I opened the book. And yet when it was time to read it it was suddenly there. It’s a letter from you.” 

Hange unfolded the pages and read the letter. Levi studied every darting motion in their eyes, every muscle movement on their face. It felt like a hundred years before they were finished reading. 

“Well?” He demanded.

“It sounds like me,” they conceded. “It’s absolutely my handwriting. I could see myself writing this.”

Levi nodded his head and put his hands in his pockets. If this book was  _ real.  _ If it was actually a relic from the future suddenly in his hands then… 

“Levi if this is real it means you will be a father in two years,” Hange said, finishing his thoughts. “And it means the war we are about to fight will last over twenty years.” 

“And that I die fourteen years from now.”

“That’s still a long way away.”

“I  _ know, _ ” he answered. Exhausted by the thought of living that long without Erwin. “And apparently I never kill the Beast Titan for him.” 

Hange lowered their eyes. 

He stared at the dirt along the path, kicking a rock with his toe. He didn’t know which part of it was causing the sudden sinking feeling he had. Was it the fact that he still had such a long life in front of him, or that he would have to fall in love again and lose  _ another  _ person. The idea that he would be the person someone else lost, or that he was going to fail, in every way a person could fail. He would fail as a father, as a friend, as a lover, as a soldier. If this book was true, then he was going to fuck up his daughter, never avenge Erwin, and die so alone that no one would know how it happened. 

“Levi,” Hange whispered. To anyone else Levi would have just looked bored, maybe tired. But they had known him a long time, and they could see in his eyes how he was falling. “How far have you read?”

“Three entries.”

They tossed the book back to him. “Keep reading. If it’s real then we get good intel on Marley and insight into the future. If we know what happens maybe we change it. If it’s not real then you get a good story.”

“Do you think you can discern if it’s real?”

“I think I can begin to research it- maybe I can figure it out. Whatever it is… it’s the most interesting development since… Well there have been a lot of interesting developments over the past year, but this is fascinating nonetheless. You just see how well this story aligns with yourself and your family. If there’s any inconsistency with your life so far it gives us reason to doubt it. I’m going to study the letter and Eren and we can meet back up later to discuss our findings.”

“You don’t want to study the book?” Levi asked, looking back up at her. 

“Oh I do. I really really really do. But finish it first- if it’s real you should be the first one to read it.”

Levi nodded slowly, agreeing with her. There was a small bit of him that was more afraid to keep going with this story than he had ever been before a mission, but most of him truly, honestly, did want to know what was going to happen next. 

And he hadn’t even gotten to the most interesting bit yet. 


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Antonia and Yelena commit arson

When Antonia had seen the new motorcycle at an exhibition she had the dishonor to attend, she had stolen one the subsequent week. It was the closest sensation she found in Marley to ODM gear, and while it didn’t even come close to the way her stomach would turn over and jump as she hurled herself through the air, it was still an exhilarating experience. 

It was midnight, and while she was thankful for the cover, the lack of a moon and the dim glow from her headlight still made her uncomfortable. For some reason she couldn’t shake the feeling that there were eyes peering around every corner as she raced through Liberio to go meet Yelena. 

For the past twenty-four hours, the contents of Hange’s letter were all that was on her mind. What made it worse was that the tiny bit of responsibility left in her kept her from drinking, the meeting she was rushing towards in the back of her mind. 

After the pathetic self-sorry cloud had cleared from her mind, there was a sentence that nagged at her and whispered in her ear and filled her heart with guilt. 

_ “He told me once that you said it was alright for him to move on when you left, but he still pines after you.” _

How upset will he be if he finds out… when he finds out… that she’d become a self-described first class whore. 

She remembered him to be fairly understanding. Maybe he would relate to how deeply lonely she had been, how she had looked for his face among the crowd, how boredom and restlessness had settled into the monotony of her day to day. 

But if he still  _ pined _ after her… would he forgive her for moving on… or moving in, without him? 

Her motorcycle skidded to stop in front of a rundown multistory building, one lantern lit in the upper right hand window. She sighed deeply, stashed her bike in the shadows, and tried to quiet the rustling underneath her trench coat as she climbed up the stairs. 

This Yelena… an accomplice of Zeke. As much as Hange had tried to explain to Antonia that Zeke was a backdoor she could use if things ever got messy, there was a deep distrust for the man she couldn’t shake. He was the reason she heard him cry in the middle of the night… both of them. He was the thing that haunted her nightmares as a child, the thing that drove her father back to the battlefield and away from her arms. 

No, she didn’t have any desire to work with Zeke. 

Slowly pushing the creaking door open, hand on her pistol, she entered the little plain room with the tentatiness of a housecat on the street. 

Leaning against the wall, standing at over a foot taller than her, was the woman Antonia could only assume was Yelena. She had a coolness about her, a soft bad-assery that Antonia had been trying to replicate her entire life, but she also couldn’t help but think about how much cooler Yelena would look if she didn’t have a stupid bowl cut sitting on her head. 

“You must be Antonia,” she said, hands in her pockets. 

“Yeah,” she answered, closing the door behind her. 

“You're taller than I thought you’d be.”

Antonia rolled her eyes, “wow what an original joke.” 

Yelena ignored her, “Dr. Upkers lab is two blocks up from here, and has a skylight. Dr .Upker himself is asleep at his home down the block. There are wires that will trigger an alarm in his private estate- so be wary of those. I’m going to break in through the ground, and you from the skylight. After we collect any evidence we deem necessary, our objective is to burn the lab down- can you handle that?”

She scoffed, “yeah I think I can handle crawling through a skylight and lighting a match.”

“It’s a simple job- there really doesn’t need to be two people on it.”

Antonia raised an eyebrow, “then go home.” 

Yelena looked down her nose at her, studying the girl. Antonia hoped she noticed how she never once took her hand off her pistol.

“Did you bring your gear?

“Yeah.”

“Can you still use it?”

_ Well it’s been four years,  _ “who the fuck do you think your talking to? 

“Good- well let’s get going,” she dismissed, pushing past her and heading down the stairs- two steps at a time. 

Antonia wasn’t going to take the stairs. 

Pushing back her coat she pulled out her guns and began playing with the triggers. This version of ODM gear wasn’t the one with blades, so it wasn’t quite so big and bulky- she had been trained on both. And it had been a while, years, but how hard could it be?

“It’s just like riding a bike,” she muttered to herself. 

She perched on the sill of the open window, pulling a black scarf over her nose and mouth. Glancing quickly down at the hard brick below her, and then back up at the line of roofs in front of her, she took a deep breath, and jumped. 

Resisting the urge to yell as she felt her guts fly to her throat, she glided through the air, ran one, two, three, steps on the brick road, and shot right back up into the sky. 

Softly giggling, she was thankful for the scarf hiding her features. Anyone who caught a good look at her face would see a giant goofy grin plastered there. 

And it  _ was _ just like riding a bike. It had been that way the first she had used ODM gear- back when she was fourteen and itching to taste the wind. Hange had been there the first time she got to really test it out, and she eavesdropped on them telling Armin how indistinguishable she was from her father when flying through the air. The way both of them turned and spun and made sharp, harsh turns. Hange would never know how much that statement had filled Antonia with pride. She had earned top marks in her class in every category, but doubled the marks of the person below her in ODM gear. 

She shook off the memory, reminding herself to focus. She needed to stay out of the light- if anyone saw her using ODM gear it would give Paradis away as having an agent in Liberio. It was a sound risk to use the gear, but the skylight was impossible to get to without it. Otherwise they would have to use big, bulky climbing equipment.  _ And Antonia had really wanted to use it again.  _

Her stint in the sky ended faster than she would have liked it to- his lab being so close to where they met up. Landing on the roof with a quiet thud, she glanced down at the road to see if Yelena had made it there yet. By the looks of it she had beaten her- which was good, she wanted first grab at everything. 

Looking through the skylight, there was a soft glow of a couple lights illuminating rows of tables- each with chemicals and papers strewn about half-hazardly. 

Her father would hate this man. 

Yelena had mentioned wires, and Antonia ran her eyes along the edges of the window and through the middle. There didn’t seem to be any on the actual window, but there were a few strung inside criss-crossing the ceiling. She would have to be careful with her descent. 

The skylight was also padlocked, but it was one she knew how to pick- the same standard locks on most bars and clubs in her quarter of Liberio. Getting to work, she heard the soft hum of Yelena’s car pulling up to the building. 

_ Shit  _ she swore under her breath, just as she broke open the lock. Carefully opening the latch of the skylight, she propped it open with an adjacent metal rod. She didn’t know how often that lock was checked, but she went ahead and set it to self reset once she closed the window. 

Attaching her gear to either side of the window, she started to slowly lower herself into the building, tripping the rod and closing the skylight behind her. That way was now locked to her- to leave now she would have to go through a window or the front door. 

There was a small open area between the wires she told herself she could fit through, and patted down her coat as she slowly,  _ slowly,  _ lowered herself through it. Letting out a breath as her feet hit the floor, she looked back up at the two wires connecting her gear to the ceiling. When she let them go they had potential to trigger a wire, but she couldn't just leave them there. 

_ Just do it Ann,  _ she sucked in a breath and put pressure on the triggers, sighing in relief as they pulled themselves back into her gear with a loud zipping sound. 

Now to get to the interesting bit. 

Noting a window on the right wall she can use for her escape later, she began studying the papers strung about the warehouse. Most of the information was lost on her- scientific jargon that she was sure Hange would have a field day with. None of it she understood beyond noticing how most of them were different chemical formulas. 

She took out a small jar of gasoline and began pouring some on the papers, scanning the sheets for something she understood, when her eye caught a little brown book. It was the same kind of field book she grew up watching Hange use, similar to the one she had at home. Skipping through the pages- it seemed to be exactly what it looked like; a field journal- in fairly understandable language too (if not in the Marleyan written language). 

This she would pocket. 

Stuffing it in her coat, she continued pouring the jar out, listening as Yelena fumbled through papers downstairs. When she was satisfied with her arsonistic work, she coated the stairs in gasoline, walking backwards down them. When she finally reached the bottom, she looked over to see Yelena studying a large sheet of thin paper. 

“What are you doing- this is supposed to be a fast mission.”

Yelena didn’t respond, but folded the paper into a square and stuck it in her pocket. 

“Hey you don’t think that we should search his house do you?” Antonia asked, arms crossed. “Does he have any research there.”

“Our sources tell us that his wife doesn’t allow him to take work home.”

“Gotcha…”

“I think we’re done here,” Yelena dismissed with the authority she thought she had over Antonia, who sighed and reached into another of her many pockets and pulled out a box of matches. Tossing a few to Yelena, she began lighting a few small fires throughout the building. Yelena covering the downstairs and Antonia taking care of the floor above. 

It struck her; how quickly the fire caught and spread. So much so that she practically rushed out the window- not bothering with caution and breaking the glass. Falling and flying, she shot away from the blaze. 

Antonia yawned as she closed the door to her bedroom behind her. As secret missions go- this one was more dull than she thought it would be. Sure- a mad scientist was studying and trying to weaponize herself and her one other family member, but that didn’t make this night any less uneventful outside of getting to set shit on fire. She and Yelena could hear the fire sirens from Yelena’s safe house two blocks away not five minutes after they left. Antonia had asked her what she took, getting only “just some formulas I’m taking to a scientist friend,” as a response. They didn’t exchange much information after that, and Antonia went home. 

She wasn’t going to bother with a shower tonight- even though she probably should. It was late and she was tired, already feeling the soreness in her arms after using her ODM gear. If she was a traditional soldier- like she trained to be- than she would have outgrown that soreness years ago. 

Tossing off her gear and stashing it back in her closet, she then threw on a smock and clean underwear, undid her hair, and grabbed the journal from Dr. Upker’s study. She was just going to do a little light reading before bed. 

Most of it was short and to the point-unlike Hange’s which was detailed with distracted enthusiasm. Here it was a collection of simple observations with long dates stretched apart from each other. 

_ Day 578- Donor unresponsive  _

_ Day 583-Donor resisting cooperation.  _

_ Day 597- Donor has been unconscious for two weeks.  _

_ Day 600- Donor attempted escape today.  _

_ Day 612-Donor has contracted pneumonia _

_ Day 634-Donor has recovered  _

_ Day 650- Donor has been cooperative  _

Over and over and over again- short sentences just beginning with a  _ Donor…  _ Antonia furrowed her eyebrows. This man was doing experiments to replicate and improve the Ackerman gene. But as far as she knew, there were only two Ackermans left alive; herself and Mikasa. 

…so who was Dr. Upker’s donor?


End file.
